


I'll Find You

by agirlintheville



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Major Character Injury, Not A Happy Ending, Out of Character, Steve Rogers is a dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:35:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2179908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlintheville/pseuds/agirlintheville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate universe where Tony knew Bruce before the accident, Bruce and the Hulk are the same person, and the Avengers will do anything to get the job done- including hurt one of their own.</p><p>But, really, this is just a love story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Find You

_Three months ago_

_“Hey.”_

_“Can I help you?”_

_“Just thought you’d like some company.”_

_“Yeah, well I don’t.”_

_Clint didn’t leave and Bruce didn’t feel like making him. He leaned back against the park bench, watching the people around him._

_“Look. I know what it’s like,” Clint’s voice broke into his thoughts._

_“Yeah? You know what’s it like be a monster, to hurt everything you love?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Bruce turned his head to look at him._

_Clint continued, “And I know what it’s like to be responsible for hurting the one person who loved you more than anything in the world. Ruining the one thing that was good in your life. So…if you want company...I’m here.”_

_Bruce turned away from him to continue his people watching. Clint settled in on the bench and didn’t say anything else._

_Two and half months ago._

_“Who?”_

_“Hmm?” Clint paused in the middle of taking a bite of his pizza._

_“Who loved you more than anything in the world?”_

_Clint looked at him, steadily, “Phil Coulson.”_

_Bruce dropped his gaze. Clint continued eating._

Bruce let out a small sigh as he sank into the worn out seat near the back on the train. It had been harder than he had anticipated, getting to the train station. It seemed like within minutes of leaving his safe apartment in Brooklyn, he had caught SHIELD’s agents following him. He knew that they couldn’t risk picking him up in the city, so he had continued to the train station, hoping to lose them in the crowds of Penn Station. He managed to slip away before he bought his ticket.

He froze suddenly as he glanced out the window onto the platform. Natasha was there, standing on the platform, about 20 feet from him. He slowly turned his head away and down- she was close enough that any sudden movements, even if he was on the train, would catch her attention. How was she here on his platform? He’d lost the tail, he knew that he had.

Maybe he was still bugged, though he didn’t think so. He had gone through all of his belongings to rip out any wires, buttons, anything that looked unfamiliar. Plus he had bought all new clothes in the stores in the train station, brand new and impossible to have any contact with SHIELD.

He tried to calm his breathing, not daring to check the window again to see if she was still there. If he listened carefully, he could determine what kind of person was coming down the aisle. He listened to the quick stomps and loud voices of children, the tentative steps and murmurings of adults trying to find their seats. He stiffened as he heard it- the steady, heavy footfall of combat boots. They were approaching his seat. Bruce didn’t look up, but gripped the knife that he had in his pocket. All he had to do was push deeply it in his side. He wouldn’t have to go back. He couldn’t go back.

The boots stopped at empty seat beside him. Bruce didn’t breathe. He angled the knife, waited for the agent to speak. With a groan, the person dropped in the seat.

“Thank god. Thought I was gonna miss the train. Fucking traffic.”

Bruce whipped his head over to stare at Clint. The marksman was resting his head on the back of his seat, eyes closed, and arms folded over his stomach. He was dressed in a grey short sleeve shirt with black jeans, his sunglasses pushed to the top of his head. He must have felt Bruce’s stare because he looked over at the scientist with a raised eyebrow.

“When do you think the dining cart opens? I could use a drink. I mean, I brought some stuff, but I need mixers.”

Bruce blinked. Then he blinked again. “What?”

Clint frowned, “Mixers. You know? I mean, we can drink it straight, but then we’ll get shit faced really fast. And you know what happens when I get drunk that quickly- I don’t think anyone wants to see my hula girl impression at 11:30am.”

Bruce gaped at him.

“What?” Clint raised an eyebrow.

Bruce shook his head, “It’s just…you found me.”

Clint smirked, “Well, yeah. You wanted me too, right?”

"Yeah, but...how? How are you guys tailing me?”

Clint snorted a laugh, then put his hand on Bruce’s knee. “Come on, laugh with me.”

“Clint, what…”

“Laugh with me. Nat’s still on the platform and the ticket checker guy is a contractor for SHIELD; he’ll signal to her if he thinks anything’s wrong. I don’t think he’s recognized us, though, so, this’ll go a lot easier if he thinks we’re on a pleasure trip, and not on the run.”

As the meaning of his words penetrated, Bruce let a strained laugh.

“Oh my god, what was that? That’s like a laugh you do when you’re dying or something.”

“People don’t laugh when they die,” he retorted, listening for shoes in the aisle. He heard the train official’s slow footfall, pausing every couple of feet.

“Yeah, well, if they did, that’s what it would sound like. Seriously, man, laugh.”

Bruce laughed, this time a small quiet laugh, one that was usually reserved for couples who shared jokes and stories in the dark hours of the morning. He tucked his face into the crook of Clint’s neck and snuggled there. He felt Clint’s arms coming to wrap around him, pulling him closer.

“Tickets?”

“Here ya go.” He felt Clint shift as he held out his ticket to the train employee.

“Chicago?”

“Yeah. Taking this one home to meet the folks.” Clint’s fingers started to pet the nape of his neck, and he giggled softly.

“Hm. Have a nice one.” The guy moved to the next two rows, checked their tickets, and moved to the front of the train again.

Clint brushed his lips over Bruce’s cheek, and whispered, “Don’t move, he’s still looking around.”

Bruce snuggled a little more. Clint smelled like cinnamon and vanilla. And the arm around him was strong, protective, lulling him into a strange sort of peace. He abruptly felt exhausted. It’d been so long since he’d run. He wasn’t used to the adrenaline drop.

“You can sleep if you want. I’ll keep watch,” Clint’s words brush his ear. He shivered a little.

He mumbled back, “How do I know you won’t give me to them?”

Clint pressed his lips to Bruce’s hair, “Told ya. I’ll find you and hold on tight. I won’t let them take you.”

Bruce nodded. Then he felt the train start to pull away from the platform. The only way they could take him now was if they stopped the train somewhere on the way, and he would be able to escape then. He needed to sleep. He sighed and let all of his limbs relax.

“Don’t let me sleep too long,” he cautioned Clint as he settled in more comfortably.

He felt Clint’s chuckle, “I won’t. Sleep, Bruce.”

Bruce slept.

_Two weeks ago._

_“Did Tony and Steve talk to you?”_

_“About what?”_

_Clint frowned and then shrugged. He dropped his body onto the couch and put his head in Bruce’s lap. “About you and the Hulk.”_

_“Why does everyone say it like that? I am the Hulk.”_

_“You’re the…So like, you’re the same person?”_

_“Yes,” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “I thought you knew that.”_

_“Uh no, definitely not.”_

_“Hmm.”_

_“So you can’t get rid of him.”_

_“No.”_

_“Would you ever want to?”_

_“Well, how can I? I’d be getting rid of me,” Bruce looked away from the TV and focused his full attention on Clint. “Why? Do you want to get rid of me?”_

_Clint stared at him and reached up to stroke his cheek, “I’d never want to get rid of you.”_

_One week ago_

_"What are you talking about?" Bruce’s eyes darted between Steve and Tony frantically._

_"I found a way to do it, Bruce. I looked over your notes and found the missing link. We could do it, you’ll finally be free," Tony leaned forward earnestly, eagerly, fingers tapping a rhythm on the table in front of him._

_"Found a way to do what?" he demanded._

_"Separate you and the Hulk." Steve’s voice was calm, but underneath it, Bruce heard the same eagerness that had run through Tony’s words._

_"Separate me…" Bruce shook his head._

_"Yes! Think about it, Bruce. You’ll be free to do whatever you want, and SHIELD can use the Hulk on missons…"_

_"We’ll have to train him better, of course," Steve interjected._

_Tony waved his hands impatiently, "Yeah, yeah. Oh my god, there’ll be so much we’ll have to do to make sure he’s a viable independent member. But the point is that I’ve done it and we can do it. What you’ve been searching for all these years. A cure."_

_Tony and Steve looked at him expectantly._

_Bruce said slowly, “A cure…”_

_"Yes!"_

_“To separate me and the Hulk…”_

_“Yup!” Tony bounced in his seat and Steve shook his head fondly at him._

_“But…I am the Hulk.”_

_Both of the men across from him froze._

_“I’m sorry?” Steve said politely._

_Bruce stared at his hands. “I am the Hulk. The Hulk is me. Like you’re Captain America.” He looked up at Tony, “And you’re Iron Man. And Natasha’s Black Widow, Clint’s Hawkeye. Don’t you understand? I’m the Hulk. Even though he seems to have his own personality and idiosyncrasies…they’re elements of my own, splinters of my own personality. He isn’t just a part of me…he is me.”_

_He glanced between them to see if they understood. They looked blankly back at him. Then Tony burst into laughter._

_“Oh my god, Bruce, you almost had us. That was good.”_

_“Tony…”_

_“Bruce, come on. You are not the Hulk. You are a genius, brilliant, a published scientist. You can be doing so much more. The Hulk is….the Hulk. He’s anger incarnate.”_

_“He’s a tool,” Steve interrupted. “A weapon. And we need to separate to the two of you so that he can be trained and utilized better. Think about it, Bruce…you’ll be free to do what you want without fear of hurting anyone. You’ll be able to see Betty again.”_

_Bruce stared at him stricken. He couldn’t believe Steve would bring that up. They knew he’d been depressed and withdrawn after the events of eight months ago. He’d do anything to see her again and know she was safe around him, but he couldn’t do this._

_“You…you don’t understand. I am the Hulk. Separation is impossible.”_

_The two men were quiet. Steve stared at him, while Tony looked down at his twisting fingers._

_Bruce continued, trying to make them see, “Don’t you get it? He’s me, I’m him, and without him…”_

_“Without him, you’re Bruce Banner!” Tony yelled suddenly. He stood up, body bristling, “This isn’t some split personality thing, Bruce. And this isn’t a costume or a suit that you put on and take off. You’re not like us. You have a beast inside you and we can take it out, remove it. And then you’ll be you again. The same man that I knew before.”_

_As Bruce looked at him, stunned, Tony continued, his voice pleading, “Bruce, please. I did this for you. Please let us help you.”_

_Bruce shook his head, “Tony, I…thank you, but no. I…I can’t.”_

_Steve stood, and leaned his hands on the table, “Bruce, you seem to be under the impression that we’re asking for your permission.”_

_Bruce stared at him, “What? What are you…”_

_“We need you, Bruce. We need your intelligence. At the same time, we need Hulk’s strength. Right now, having the two of you share one body is not working to our benefit. We are going to separate you and the Hulk. It’s been decided.”_

_Bruce was beginning to feel faint. He stared at Steve’s impassive face, then jerked his head to stare at Tony. Tony looked regretful, but resolute._

_“Tony…”_

_“I’m sorry, Bruce,” Tony held his gaze. “It has to be done.”_

_“Tony, please…”_

_“It’ll be so much better. For everyone. Trust me.”_

_Bruce was out of words. He couldn’t even think. Steve pushed away from the table. “The procedure is next Tuesday at 8:00am. We’re doing it in the Tower. You’ll be more comfortable that way.”_

_Steve smiled at him, but Bruce stared back numbly The captain sighed and held his hand out to Tony, “Come on, let’s leave him to get used to the idea.”_

_Tony sent him a smile as well, “It’ll be great, Bruce. Really it will.”_

_Then he took Steve’s hand and they walked out of the room._

Bruce slowly woke up.

“Why do you smell like cookies?” he mumbled to the shoulder his head was on.

“Because I rub cookie dough all over my body in the morning after I shower.”

Bruce raised his head a little to stare at Clint, “Seriously?”

Clint snorted, “What? No, not seriously. That seems incredibly messy.”

Bruce blinked, and then looked around confused. Right…train…Clint…SHIELD…shit!

Bruce jerked himself upright and scooted a little away.

Clint smirked, “Are you with me, now?”

He cleared his throat, “Yeah. Where are we?”

“10 minutes from Syracuse,” Clint replied.

He leaned down to pick up his bag and made sure everything in was in order. When he looked back up, Clint was watching him closely.

“What?”

Clint shrugged, “Just wondering what you’re doing.”

“I’m getting off here.”

“You mean we’re getting off here.”

Bruce paused, “You’re coming with me?”

At Clint’s nod, Bruce narrowed his eyes, “No.”

His refusal seemed to amuse Clint. “Why not?”

“Because you’re still SHIELD.”

“Well, not after this. I’m AWOL…they’re going to be looking for me, too.”

“You’re…why are you AWOL?” Bruce shook his head.

Clint leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. “Because you asked me to find you.”

“Clint…”

“Steve and Tony told us about the procedure. “The words came out fiercely, quietly. Bruce stared at him. Clint didn’t open his eyes, but suddenly his face was filled with rage. “Even before they told you. Everyone was saying how it was for the best, and I thought…maybe, maybe it was. But then you told me that day…and you told them and they were still going to do it anyway! I couldn’t…I coulnd’t believe it. Our teammates, our friends were going to ignore your decisions about your body.”

He opened his eyes then, the blue color blazing with fury. “If they were going to do that you, who’s to say that any of us are safe? Maybe’ll they’ll decide one day that my vision’s not good enough and install some bionic beams in my eyes. It’s not right, man.”

“Clint…I…”

“I’m done with SHIELD. You can ditch me whenever you want and I’ll go my own way, but I’m with you until you do. I’ll help however you want.”

Bruce swallowed, “You know it’s harder to hide two men than just one.”

Clint smirked, “Hey, if I can hide with a woman who refuses to dye her bright red hair, then I think I can hide the both of us.”

Bruce snorted quietly, “Nat’s hair is really noticeable, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s ridiculous. I think she dyes it even redder on purpose. Like a calling card or something.”Clint smiled when Bruce chuckled.

“Bruce. Whenever you wanna split, I’ll let you go,” Clint said softly.

Bruce looked out the window. He could see the station coming up. He wasn’t used to this anymore, running, being by himself. He’d been softened by his few years on safety, of friendship at the Tower, of three months of Clint. “It would be…nice. To have company.”

“Then I’ll be company.” Bruce turned to see Clint, gathering his bags. “We’ll grab a bite to eat at the station and then you can tell me where you want to go next.”

Bruce took a deep breath and let it out. Hopefully, this wasn’t going to be a mistake.

_Two months ago._

_“So, am I like a replacement or rebound or something?”_

_“Well, it’s been three years, so if you are, you’re like the fourth one. So…”Clint smirked and continued to unbutton Bruce’s shirt. He smoothed his hands slowly down Bruce's chest, trailing through the hair there. “Am I?”_

_Bruce was having a hard time focusing on the conversation,“What?”_

_“Am I a rebound?” Clint looked into his eyes while dropping his hands to undo Bruce’s belt. “ ‘Cause that’s fine if I am. Gotta start somewhere, you know.”_

_Bruce closed his eyes and heard his zipper being pulled down. He felt Clint push the material down past his hips._

_“Bruce?”_

_He snapped his eyes open to see Clint kneeling and settling between his legs, felt his hands massaging his thighs. “So? I’m a rebound?”_

_“No,” Bruce shook his head. “Not a rebound. Replacement.”_

_Clint grinned at him and lowered his head._

“Bruce?”

Bruce inhaled sharply, coming back to himself. He turned around and saw Clint, holding out a plate of fries.

“That for me?”

“Yeah, man. Gotta keep up your strength.”

“Hm. Dunno, maybe if I’m too weak, they won’t want the Hulk anymore.”

He’d meant as a joke, but he messed it up. The delivery was flat. Or maybe the words hit too close to home. He ducked his head and started to shove the fries in his mouth.

“Don’t think that’s going to work, Bruce,” Clint’s voice was quiet. “They’ll always want the Hulk.”

Bruce nodded and forced himself to chew. They ate quietly for a few moments, then Bruce cleared his throat. “So where to now?”

Clint leaned back in his chair and let out a small burp. “You tell me. You’re in charge here, boss.”

He snorted, then looked at the window of the small diner they were in. D.C. was lovely, such a change from New York. Still a big city, but felt more personable somehow. After getting off in Syracuse, they’d boarded a train to D.C. Clint had a couple of safe apartments in the city and they spent the night at one of them before relocating to a second one. Bruce was exhausted; he hadn’t been able to sleep the night before.

“If you weren’t with me… if this hadn’t happened…what would you be doing now?”

Clint didn’t answer. Bruce looked up to see him staring.

“Why are you asking?”

“Just curious.”

“Bruce,” Clint leaned forward. “I’m not regretting this if that’s what you’re implying.”

Bruce looked away. “I want to go to France. I’ve always wanted to go to France.”

“Hey,” Clint waited until Bruce returned his gaze. Then the archer reached out to wrap his fingers around Bruce’s hand. “We’ll go to France. Today.”

_Eight years ago_

_“Bruce! Bruce, where are you?”_

_“In here!”_

_Betty came around the corner of and entered the lab. "Oh, Bruce, you’re not going to believe who just called me!”_

_Bruce rolled his chair away from his microscope to smile at her. He hadn’t seen her this excited since they had unlocked the first part of serum. “Who was it? Brad Pitt?”_

_Betty paused and frowned. “Ha ha, funny. I still insist that he was impressed by my lecture and is going to call me one day. But no! Tony Stark!”_

_Bruce’s mouth dropped open. “Tony Stark?”_

_“Yes!”_

_“Tony Stark of Stark Industries?”_

_“Yes!”_

_“Tony Stark of Stark Industries, who recently declared that his company was going to carry on his father’s legacy in trying to make super soldiers?”_

_“Yes!”_

_“That means…does…is he…”_

_“Yes! He’s going to fund our lab, for another three years!”_

_Betty bounced up and down in excitement, then threw herself into his arms._

 

_“Mr. Stark, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.”_

_“Please call me, Tony. And I will call you Bruce. I’ve been very impressed with your work.”_

_“Thank you,” Bruce wiped his hands on his pants before shaking Tony’s hand_

_“So, show me what you got around this place.”_

 

_“I can’t believe you wrote your dissertation in three days!”_

_Bruce took another sip of his beer and grinned, “I could have written it in a day, but this one refused to accept my proposal if I didn’t at least start it before the day it was due.”_

_He nudged Betty, who laughed. “Whatever. You’re the one who said you weren’t going to propose until I held my degree in my hands.”_

_“Hey! I was worried that you’d blow it off and want to become my bare footed housewife.”_

_“Ugh! As if that would ever happen.”_

_“It’s true,” Bruce winked at Tony. “She can barely boil water.”_

_Tony laughed, “Shit, I’m glad I met you guys. It’s nice to have people that I can actually talk to without having to slow down.”_

_Solemnly, Betty raised her glass, “You’ve got a friend in us, Tony.”_

_They all knocked their glasses together and drank to her toast._

 

_“This is it? Betty, are you sure?”_

_“I’m positive, Tony. This is the serum. Bruce confirmed the animal tests last night.”_

_Tony held up the tiny vial. “The super soldier serum,” he breathed._

_He looked at her, “We have to find someone to test it on.”_

_“We already did,” Bruce leaned his hip against the table._

_Tony wrinkled his brow at Betty’s sudden frown, “Who?”_

_“Me.”_

 

_“Bruce, for the last time, are you sure about this? Because we can…”_

_“I’m sure, Tony. It’s going to work.”_

_Tony held his gaze for a moment, then stepped back out of the chamber. Betty continued to fuss with the straps and placement of the monitors._

_He caught her hand, "Hey, it’ll be fine. When it’s done, you won’t even think about Brad Pitt anymore.”_

_She gave a small chuckle, then shook her head. He kissed her, then shooed her out. He could see them through the glass walls of the chamber- Tony was curiously still, hands tucked in pockets, all of his attention focused on Bruce. Betty was worrying her lip with her teeth, clenching and unclenching her hands. He winked at her, then gave her a nod. She let a breath and turned the dial._

_For a long minute, nothing changed. Then fire burned through his veins, then ice, then white searing pain. He screamed. His skin was burning, it was melting, it was twisting. He screamed. His bones were cracking, enlarging, expanding. His body swelled. He screamed. He roared with his pain._

_“BRUCE!”_

 

 _He woke up on the edge of a road_ _. It was raining. He could see the street lamps in the distance. Groggily, he sat up and looked down at himself. His pants were shredded, he was missing his shoes and shirt. His hands were stained with…_

_“Oh my god,” he began to hyperventilate._

_Suddenly, he was bathed in light. Flinching, he put his hands up to block the beams of the car. It squealed to a stop and he heard the door open and slam._

_“Bruce! Oh my god, Bruce!”_

_“Tony?” He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t take his weight._

_Tony ran up to him, and sank down to hold him his arms._

_“Bruce. Are you alright? God, tell me you’re alright.”_

_“Tony…I…what happened? Where…there’s something on my hands. I think there’s blood on my hands,” Bruce panicked._

_Tony hugged him tightly.” It’s okay, Bruce. It’s okay. I’ll fix it, I promise. I’ll fix you.”_

_Eight months ago_

_“Betty, I can control it. I’m starting to control it.”_

_“But Bruce, Tony thinks that he can cure it.”_

_“I don’t need to be cured!” he yelled. He saw her flinch and he was ashamed. He lowered his voice, “I can control it, Betty. I’m starting to control it.”_

_“Bruce, I don’t think that’s enough. I don’t think I can deal with that.”_

_“What? What do you mean?”_

_“I mean, I’ve spent eight years watching you turn into a monster and I never know when you’re going to turn back! I’ve spent the past three years watching the Hulk fight criminals and aliens and god knows what else and…Bruce, you’re slipping away from me. I can feel it, I can…”_

_“Betty!” He hugged her tightly. “I’m right here. I’ve always been right here.”_

_“No, Bruce. I can’t, I just can’t. I’m sorry.”_

_He stepped back so he could see her face, “Are you…are you breaking up with me?”_

_She began to cry, “Bruce, I’m sorry.”_

_“But…” he began to blink rapidly, “we’re going to get married.”_

_“Eight years ago! We were going to married eight years ago. Then we had to wait until we could figure out what happened. Then we had to wait to see if we could find a pattern to the transformation. And now we have to wait for you to control it. Bruce, Tony can fix you now!”_

_“No, he can’t! There’s nothing to fix!” He whirled and slammed his fists on the wall._

_“Bruce, please!”_

_“I am the Hulk. I control this. I am not broken!” He slammed his fists again and again, feeling them swell, skin rippling and twisting. He heard her cry his name. He roared._

 

_Bruce leaned against the wall of the small room, listening to the beeping of the monitors. It was an accident they said. Hulk’s beating of the wall had knocked down a support beam they said. Betty hadn’t been able to escape the falling beam, they said. What they didn’t say was that it was his fault. No, it was the Hulk’s fault, they said. They didn’t understand- he was the Hulk._

_He felt someone beside him. Glancing over, he saw Tony leaning against the wall with him._

_"Her father’s flying in tomorrow. As soon as she’s discharged, he’s going to take her home, back to Virginia."_

_Bruce nodded. It was for the best. They had been limping towards their ending since he’d decided to make himself a science experiment. "She’ll be happier back there. With her family."_

_"You’re her family."_

_"No, I was her family."_

_"You can be her family again."_

_Bruce looked over at him, then cast one last look at Betty’s sleeping form. Pushing himself off the wall, he walked out of the room._

He jerked awake as Clint made a quick merge on the highway.

“Sorry,” Clint glanced briefly at him.

“Are we there?”

“Almost.”

Clint had recommended that they drive through the suburbs of Virginia before heading to Dulles to fly out of the country. He claimed that it would be easier to lose anyone who was following them.

“You okay?” Clint asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…thanks.”

“For?”

“For finding me.”

_One week ago._

_It was hot, but Bruce had swaddled himself up in his comforter and had forced Clint to climb in with him. He could the sweat running down Clint’s chest as he lay wrapped up in his arms. He hadn’t been warm since Steve and Tony had talked to him that morning. He also hadn’t told Clint about it._

_“So, Steve says you’re angry with him,” Clint pushed the hair back from Bruce’s forehead._

_Bruce said flatly, “Steve’s a dick.”_

_Clint snorted, “That’s God’s own truth. But still, usually correct. Are you angry with him?”_

_Bruce didn’t answer. Then he twisted around to run his hands over Clint’s chest. He closed his eyes. “I’ve always wanted to go to France.”_

_Clint smiled, “Nice change of topic there, but okay.”_

_“Seriously.”_

_“Okay, we’ll go.”_

_“What if you can’t?”_

_He felt Clint still under his hands. “You don’t want me to go with you?”_

_“No,” Bruce shook his head. “I mean. What if you couldn’t go?”_

_“Like…if I had a mission?” Clint said slowly._

_“No, I mean…” Bruce let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what I mean.”_

_He felt Clint’s lips brush his eyelids and he cracked them open to stare into Clint’s eyes. “Like I said, when we started this. Any time, you wanna go, I’ll let you go.”_

_“What if I want you hold on?” he whispered._

_Clint smiled, “Then I’ll hold on. Tight as I can.”_

Dulles was a busy airport, even on a weekday in the middle of the afternoon. It was easy to zone out and lose track of his surroundings while waiting in line at security checkpoint. Bruce felt Clint catch his arm to prevent him from moving forward. He tensed and looked around carefully. Then he saw what Clint had already spotted. Three men in black suits accompanied by five people with assault rifles standing just past the security checkpoint. SHIELD.

He glanced over at Clint- the man’s eyes were already darting around, trying to find an escape route. Bruce twisted around to glance at the line behind them, and he saw another team moving slowly towards them. They were stuck.

“Can you escape?” He whispered to Clint.

“You mean, can we escape?”

“I meant what I said.”

“Bruce, what the fuck are you talking?” Clint hissed.

“How did you find me? At the train station? How did you find me?”

“Seriously? I’m a trained spy, I can find anyone and anything given enough time.” Clint’s eyes had focused in on a far beam over the heads of the TSA officials, and he looked like he was trying to calculate their distance from it.

Bruce grabbed the front of his jacket so that Clint had to look at him

“Bruce, what…”

“You’ll find me again?”

“What?” Clint stood still in the face of Bruce’s intensity.

“Promise me. Promise me, you’ll find me again.” Clint was silent, staring at him. Bruce glanced behind them- the team was only fifty feet away now.

“Bruce…”

“Please.”

“I promise.”

Bruce jerked him forward and kissed him desperately. Then, he shoved Clint away from him, hard enough that the archer stumbled and fell. Bruce grabbed the knife from his pocket. He’d been planning to plant it on the man in front of him and he was glad that he hadn’t done it yet.

Clint began to scrabble away from him as fast as he could; Bruce held his gaze. He could feel the crowd begin to grow restless and panicked. A woman behind him shouted, “He’s got a knife! Oh my god!”

He stared into Clint’s eyes and grasped the handle. Clint was far enough away now. He stared into Clint’s eyes, and plunged the knife into his belly, twisting and jerking it sideways. Bruce fell to his knees and felt the warmth of his blood on his hands. He heard the screams around him. He stared into Clint’s eyes. His skin rippled and twisted. His blood fell and his veins were fire. He stared. He roared.

_Two days ago._

_“God, that might have been the best meal you’ve ever made. I think I stuffed myself into a coma.” Clint was laid out on their bed, limbs relaxed and spread out._

_“You look swollen,” Bruce chuckled._

_“I am. I’m officially five months pregnant with your food baby,” Clint smiled at him._

_“I think I’d be the pregnant one, wouldn’t I?”_

_“Psshh, details,” Clint’s eyes followed him as he moved around the room. “Are you alright?”_

_Bruce tensed, then forced himself to relax, “I’m fine. Just still wired from the day.”_

_He went to lie down next to Clint, shoved his arms and legs over until there was enough space. He laid his head on the bare chest beneath him. “Clint?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Did you mean what you said? If I wanna go, you’ll let me go?” He felt Clint tense just like he did before._

_“If you wanna go, I’ll let you go, Bruce. You know that,” came the soft reply._

_“What if I want you to find me?”_

_“Then I’ll find you.” Bruce pressed a kiss to Clint’s chest and didn’t say anything else. Clint's breathing slowed until it was clear that the man was deeply asleep. The sleeping pills that Bruce had put in the food were fast acting. He got up and got his bag from the closet. He looked down at Clint, and took a few minutes to think. Then on a scrap of paper, he wrote the words FIND ME in large letters and tucked it under the pillow._

_Silently, he left the room and the Tower._

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as an exercise in writing flashbacks.
> 
> Let me know how it reads!
> 
>  
> 
> ETA: I have the best readers! I reached 100 kudos on my other work, Burning Together, which was a personal goal of mine! So to thank you properly, I have opened up my ask box for this week: [tumblr ](http://unnaturalnoise.tumblr.com/ask). You can leave me prompts, ask me questions, harass me about unfinished works, whatever. Please drop by, I'd love to hear from you!


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